My Sweetest Downfall
by ClinicallyAcclaimed
Summary: Based off of Regina Spektor's song, Samson, Larkin and her boyfriend learn how to cope with the trials that life has given to them.


His hair was long when we first met.

Samson Oliver Riella. He was my first love. I can't exactly explain it, but it worked out, better than it should have. He was loud and outspoken. I preferred to keep to myself. He liked to express himself through his paintings and sketches. I liked my own medium of musical notes, composed by piano and held together by my soft voice. The history books would forget about us, though. In most people's eyes we were just average, insignificant.

I knew we weren't, though.

I looked up in the mirror as I finished cutting his dark brown hair, and I found his eyes (the same beautiful shade as his hair) watching me carefully. I smiled at him as I put the scissors down and he turned around, running his fingers through his soft, but thinning locks.

"You did pretty good, Lark," he said quietly, his smile evident in the way he said it, his soft accent weaving its way through the words.

"I'm glad you like it, Sam," I smiled back at him, then kissed his cheek as I took his hands to pull him up to his feet. "Would you like something quick to eat before we go?"

Samson's eyes didn't leave my face as he nodded, until he looked through the bathroom door into our bedroom. "Nothing too much, babe, I'll just have a quick rest." And with that he kissed my forehead before walking into our room, lying down on his back then resting his forearm against his own forehead.

I kept my smile for him as I walked out of our bathroom, through our small apartment to the tidy kitchen. I pulled the loaf of Wonder Bread out of the bread box and then went to the cupboard, pulling out his Nutella, and a knife, then I tried to spread the hazelnut condiment as smoothly as I could. I debated whether or not I should set the knife in the sink, but I set it on the rim of the jar so he could lick it later, then I turned to the refrigerator to pull an apple out for myself. I went to get the corer out of the drawer when I suddenly felt a pair of strong, warm hands over my eyes.

"Your hair is red," he said, then kissed the back of my neck.

"I smiled, then took Sam's ands off of my eyes, surprised when he reached down to my waist, turning me toward him then picking me up and setting me on the counter.

"And you're beautiful," he breathed, leaning toward me, his lips slightly parted.

"Compared to a potato," I joked before our lips touched, referring to when we first met each other.

_It was at the art gallery, and I had heard about an exhibit featuring repurposed musical instruments. I had found it, looking at each component curiously, and I didn't even realize that he had come up from behind me. _

"_It makes me think of Ireland," he had said, pointing to some strange shape near the base of the sculpture, which looked like a potato. "Because of the potatoes, yeah?"_

"_And potatoes are solely Irish?" I turned toward him, raising an eyebrow._

_I guess he had recognised my accent as being from the Emerald Isle, and he smiled. "No, but it seems to be only of the only things history books remember. They certainly picked something important to include in that Irish section," he continued, then his grin grew wider. "But they certainly forgot the most beautiful thing from the land of the leprechauns."_

_I didn't realise what he meant, or even register that he was attempting to flirt with me._

"_Well, she's standing next to me," he leaned over and whispered, then he laughed quietly when I blushed, my face matching my hair. _

"_Larkin Clodagh," I bit my lip, looking away. "Larkin Anais Clodagh."_

"_Samson Riella," he smiled as he ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair._

He pulled away from the gentle kiss, looking into my eyes for a moment before smiling. "For the record, I like you much better than I like potatoes." He kissed my nose before taking his Nutella'd Wonder Bread and taking a bite. "I'll be ready to go in five minutes."

I nodded, crossing my legs and picking up the apple, not bothering to core it as I took a bite. "I'll drive."

He looked back at me and bit his lip, but nodded as he went back into our room. I don't know why. To change into some nicer clothes? Where we were going, it didn't really matter what he was wearing.

I turned on the radio as I finished the apple, trying to pick out the song by the tune, then I nodded to myself. Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. It was a beautiful song, and Ed has hair the same colour as mine. I have to like him, right?

I heard Samson in the bathroom as the verse came on, _"Settle down with me/And I'll be your/safety/You'll be my lady/I was made to keep your body warm/But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms."_

I bit my lip, feeling a pang in my heart, then switched the station to VFX, the pop/hip hop station, then I turned it off quietly as he came back in.

"Ready?" He's smiling, his brown eyes sparkling as he takes the keys off of the hanger by the door, tossing them to me lightly.

I nodded, then slid off of the counter, kissing his cheek as I slipped my shoes on and opened the door, walking out into the hallway, smiling for him.

We got in the car, and I quickly started it, turning the radio on, grateful Kiss Me wasn't on still. Instead it was Coldplay's Strawberry Swing, and I turned to Samson with a smile as I buckled. It was one of our favourite songs.

_"Ah, now the sky could be blue, I don't mind/Without you it's a waste of time/Could be blue, I don't mind/Without you it's a waste of time," _we both sang, then I giggled as I backed out of the car port, and he took my hand as soon as we were on the main road.

_"The sky could be blue, could be gray/Without you I just slide away/The sky could be blue, I don't mind/Without you it's a waste of time."_

Samson grinned and leaned his head back against the headrest of the seat, looking out the window as the commercials on the radio played. "Larkin, everything's going to be okay, right?"

I nodded quietly as Florence + The Machine's Lover To Lover started to play, and I turned the music down in case he wanted to talk some more.

Samson ran a hand through his hair again, readjusting how it fell across his forehead, then he looked back at me, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. "You're doing alright, aren't you?"

I nodded, glancing at him before I looked back at the road. "I'm doing fine." I shrugged, then slowed down at a yellow light, stopping when it went red. "What about you?"

Samson looked back out the window, then shrugged as we went again.

We really didn't have to drive, we only lived a few blocks away, but it was cold outside, and it was snowing, so we weren't going to. I pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. When Samson didn't get out, I went around to his side and opened the door for him, holding my hand out for him.

"There's my stubborn Irish girl," he chuckled as he took my hand, stepping out of the car, and we both walked inside where we were directed down the hallway into an office, where we waited for a few more minutes, in nervous silence. I sat down next to him, squeezing his hand as comfortingly as I thought I could be, then kissed his cheek as the door opened.

Samson stood when the man walked inside the room, introducing himself as Doctor Malachy, another Irish immigrant himself. He pulled out his clipboard and motioned for Sam to sit, looking at me and greeting me quickly before searching through his papers. "Mr. Riella?"

Sam nodded, sitting tense and straight, not the way he usually was, then he ran a hand through his hair.

Doctor Malachy sighed and took off his glasses, sitting in his chair and rolling it over to the two of us. "Hodgkin's Disease." He sighed. "We're going to need to do another CBC just to check on those cells, okay?" He rolled back to his desk, getting a pair of gloves and a syringe, watching as I helped Sam to roll his sleeve up past his elbow.

I watched as Malachy prepared the area, then took out a small amount of blood, covering the insertion with a cotton ball before he went over to the hematocrit. We watched it spin around and I leaned my head on Sam's shoulder, closing my eyes for a small moment, then sat up straighter when the doctor turned back around, stating that he had to go visit the lab tech for a few minutes.

Those few minutes were torture.

I don't remember what happened, but I do remember Sam carrying me out of the office, tears streaming down my face.

It was spring now. I remember it, because we had gone on a picnic to the park. I liked Sam's hat, and I remember telling him that he should have got one for me, too.

He wouldn't let me buzz all of my hair off, he said that my hair was too pretty for me to be bald. I told him tough. We came to a compromise, and I cut almost all of it off, but I donated it to Locks of Love for other cancer survivors.

We were under the shade of the big oak tree, and he ran his fingers through my short hair as we kissed gently. I remember how his beanie felt under my fingers.

I had fallen asleep in his lap, though. I trusted that he would watch over me and protect me should any monsters come to eat me.

I remember my fingers felt different when I woke up. I rubbed at my eyes as I woke up slowly, feeling something sharp poke the soft skin of my face, and I opened my eyes to see a glimmering diamond ring sitting on my finger. My jaw dropped and I looked over at Sam, who had a proud grin on his face.

He said it was because I stuck with him, I didn't leave when I had the chance. I wasn't going to leave him anyway, I told him. I would never leave him, my sweetest downfall.


End file.
